


Operational Security

by Charity_Angel



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Episode: s03e20 Twin Suns, Episode: s03e21-22 Zero Hour, M/M, Missing Scene, fluffy feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-08 14:43:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10389117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charity_Angel/pseuds/Charity_Angel
Summary: In which Rex has a secret. It's kind of a big secret.(SPOILERS AHOY)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't resist
> 
> (also, the galaxy needs more Rex. You know, just because.)

“…no-one would like to believe General Kenobi’s alive more than I would…”

It was a lie that was getting harder and harder as he watched his two jetiise struggle to find their way in this harsh, unforgiving galaxy; especially now that Ezra had somehow worked out exactly where his old friend was hiding out. And how that had happened was something Rex wasn’t even going to pretend to understand, firmly filing it under ‘weird Jedi shit’.

Arguments had been had about him hiding on Tatooine. Arguments that had ended in Rex being called a filthy hypocrite, and Rex having to reluctantly agree.

(But the make-up sex had been fantastic.)

(And he owed Jesse 50 creds. Wherever Jesse was.)

He wished he hadn’t seen the whole ridiculousness with the stolen A-wing coming. He made a good show of grumbling and pointing fingers (like he wasn’t completely aware of how headstrong padawans could be), before finding a spot he could hide himself away for a little while.

He held his comm in his hands for a good minute or so, contemplating. What he wouldn’t give to be able to send at least a holo message, or even converse in real time. But text would have to do – at least that could be bounced around a thousand routing stations and have its originating address encrypted so heavily the Empire would be there until the death of the universe without decoding it, and still be in one piece at the other end.

(Or so Sabine had assured him, a knowing twinkle in her eyes as she had handed the matched pair of units over.)

(It was less traceable, even if they didn’t like abusing the system. More uses meant more chances for it to be cracked.)

Little ‘un bailed. In your neck of the woods. Keep an eye out?

He stared at the simple, vague message for a good few minutes, wondering how he could possibly say anything about their fears that Maul would use Ezra as he had before; that he would follow Ezra all the way to Obi-Wan’s front door. It would have to do, and he would have to hope that Obi-Wan could read between the lines. They had discussed the possibility the last time they had been able to risk meeting up, and Obi-Wan was nothing if not intelligent.

He added a line that might at least lead his jetii in the right direction and tapped ‘send’ before he could start to over-analyse:

Left here alone, but might have picked up a friend on the way.

He sighed and slid the comm unit back into the compartment under his vambrace.

“He’s alive, isn’t he?”

Rex refused to jump out of his skin, and instead spent a moment wondering whether it was that jetiise were getting quieter or that his hearing was fading. Hopefully it was the former (entirely possible, since Kanan would be more aware of his footsteps now).

“Yeah.”

Kanan’s expression twisted into something unreadable, and Rex didn’t want to begin to poke the gundark’s nest of things that were probably going on in that head. 

“Does anyone else know?”

Rex shook his head, and realised his error before he had even finished. “Just me and Senator Organa. He’s the one who told me, years ago.

“You can’t say anything,” he added softly. “He’s got a mission. Even I’m not supposed to know.”

“I see.” There was something hurt in Kanan’s voice – something of the padawan that Rex had never met. Something of Caleb left over. Something that Rex understood all too well because he’d seen it in Ahsoka too.

At least Kanan would understand that sometimes the mission had to come first: he wasn’t sure Ezra would. Rex was absolutely certain that Ezra would bug Obi-Wan about the Alliance needing him, and wouldn’t just accept no for an answer. (He certainly wouldn’t understand that Obi-Wan was actually a founder member of the Rebellion but was no longer active.)

Ahsoka would have been deeply amused watching someone get under Obi-Wan’s skin. Rex was just old, as Obi-Wan was, and they were both too tired to have the patience any more. Perhaps Maul would be a welcome distraction?

“Ezra won’t keep quiet when he gets back,” Kanan pointed out, both looking and sounding more like his normal self.

“Is it your turn to explain operational security, or Hera’s?”

The smile Kanan gave him was more than a little sinister. “I think it’s your turn.”

“Oh no – he’s your kid, not mine.”

“Your secret, not mine.”

He _had_ to stop arguing with Jedi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never thought I would get to use my texting formatting for a Star Wars fic. How utterly foolish of me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rex gets an unexpected message

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have some unexpected ObiRex adorableness.

I sent him home to you. He meant well.

Rex stared at his comm for a moment. The message was unassuming, but its source… even though he knew that he had initiated contact, that Ezra had gone in search of Obi-Wan, somehow he hadn’t expected a response. For a second, it was like they were sending messages in downtime between battles, not like the galaxy was literally out to get them and the possibility existed that their comms could be traced.

He shouldn’t reply. He knew he shouldn’t. But he hated the silence that dragged between them while they were apart. And he trusted Sabine and encryptions.

He ALWAYS means well. Apparently it’s my turn to lecture him. Won’t that be fun?

He reminds me of my brother.

Funny, he reminds me of my sister.

Our siblings always were too much alike. Look after this one: save him from their fates.

Rex sighed. Obi-Wan liked to think that Anakin had died the day the Jedi fell, and Rex supposed that was easier to live with than the truth. But, whichever way you looked at it, both Anakin and Ahsoka were victims of the Sith, and that happening to anyone else was unacceptable.

I try. But I’m still going to kill him.

I would expect nothing less from you, cyare.

How are you? Everything okay over there?

He hadn’t wanted to make assumptions – Ezra might not have left because it was over, but because Obi-Wan wasn’t going to let Ezra fight Maul. Obi-Wan needed to be the one to see it through to the end: Maul had taken too much from him for him not to. Plus, Ezra and Maul were not a good combination.

Everything’s fine. Peaceful once more. Can you get away soon?

Rex blinked at the message. It was over. Finally, the man who had ruined Mandalore was dead. The creature who had destroyed Obi-Wan’s life was gone. A celebration was in order – not celebrating Maul’s death as such, because even the soldier that Rex was recognised that was crass, but that Obi-Wan could finally move on.

But, they were all preparing for the assault on Lothal, and Rex couldn’t just leave now. Obi-Wan would understand.

Big shindig coming up. Fairly sure my absence would be noted. But after, definitely.

Rex hoped that wasn’t giving too much away: even if the sending locations couldn’t be traced, there was still a chance that the encryption on the message itself could be cracked. They were both always careful to be circumspect in what they said.

The comm pinged again, and the four words chased away any other thoughts.

Good. I miss you.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rex makes a trip.

Rex understood why Skywalker had hated this place: the sand really _did_ get everywhere. He wrapped his veil around his head to keep the swirling desert from his lungs and headed for the nearest cantina to wait out the storm. He knew from experience that there was no point trying to travel in a sandstorm – those things could strip flesh down to the bone once they got up to speed.

Tatooine was a hole, and Mos Eisley most of all, but it was the kind of place where you could hide easily enough. Or just not be noticed if you didn’t want to be.

Of course, it was also the kind of place where scumbags who could sell you out to the Empire existed and Rex had a price on his head. That was the reason he liked one particular place, a little off the beaten track and therefore inhabited by locals rather than the transient population. The barman was a Twi’lek who had been friends with Waxer (no surprises – Waxer made friends everywhere) and he knew the trouble makers and the bounty hunters. A few years’ back, he had introduced Rex to the back door to the place, and he also had a couple of rooms downstairs that someone could rent out for a night or two if they, say, needed to wait out a sandstorm.

Izen gave a flick of his lek when he saw Rex – their cue that said all was safe. Rex breathed a sigh of relief and unwound the veil as he approached the bar.

“Fabulous weather you’re having,” he said to Izen, his voice as dry as the storm outside.

“Only whenever you come to town, Roi,” Izen replied. His face was straight, but his good lek curled at the tip the same way Ahsoka’s used to when she was amused. “How long you staying around for this time?”

Rex shrugged. “A few days maybe? Not really on a precise timetable.”

A beer landed in front of his face. “Guess you’ll want a room for tonight?”

Rex grinned at him. “Sure. Why not?”

“Room two, whenever you’re ready,” Izen said, tossing a key chip at him. “Dump your stuff and come back up for the evening if you want. Ahn’ya is making her bantha stew tonight.”

Izen’s wife’s stews were reasonable eating: Rex had certainly had worse during the war, and since. Wolffe and Gregor were both appalling cooks, but Obi-Wan was much better, and Rex was very much looking forward to a few days the best food Tatooine had to offer. At least it would only be tonight (probably).

Rex finished up his drink, grabbed his bag from the floor and headed for the stairs. Judging from the chrono in the bar, he had an hour or so before the food would be served. That was enough time to comb the sand out of his beard, and let the sonics clean off the crud that always seemed to accumulate from travelling. Maybe even faceplant on the bed for half an hour or so?

“Hello there.”

Rex froze, blinking. He hadn’t even noticed that there was anyone else in the room, let alone the very, very welcome man that was getting up from where he had been sitting on the bed.

Rex had grown up learning to fight in a war that had come and gone, leaving the galaxy an infinitely crappier place: he had learned not to question too much when something nice happened unexpectedly. And this was very, very nice. He dropped his kit bag and pulled Obi-Wan into his arms. He stroked a thumb over Obi-Wan’s cheek and just… breathed in his presence.

“Do I take it this is a pleasant surprise?”

Rex chuckled. “Shut up.”

He slid his hand around the back of Obi-Wan’s head and pulled him closer, into a kiss.

When they had been young, the few moments that they could grab were hot, searing, and normally desperate. These days they were generally slow and sensual, and they had all the time in the galaxy right now. Rex could take his time to just enjoy being with his cyare.

Obi-Wan’s lips were dry – a fairly standard state of affairs on Tatooine – but that soon changed as they relaxed into each other. Obi-Wan melted into him, sliding his hand around Rex’s neck. He made a happy little noise as he cupped his other hand over Rex’s ass and squeezed the cheek.

Rex nipped at his bottom lip playfully. “I guess I know what you came to town for,” he murmured into the scant space between them.

Obi-Wan rested his forehead against Rex’s. “And you didn’t come all the way to Tatooine for sex?”

“Mostly,” he said with a breathy laugh. “Not all, but mostly. I mean, I could probably get laid back at base if I wanted to.”

“I’m sure you could.” The words were light, amused, but the fingers at the back of his neck tightened possessively and pulled him further into the room, closer the bed.

“Now, Kenobi? You think we’ve got time?”

The clasps of his robes released and it fell away. He suspected blatant misuse of the Force was involved, but he couldn’t dwell on it because Obi-Wan was laughing. “My, aren’t you ambitious today, captain. Either that, or you’ve grown so senile that you’ve forgotten that we’re not young any more.”

He could feel the smirk on his face. That sounded like a challenge. And yes, they were advancing in years, but he was engineered and Obi-Wan was a Jedi – neither of them were exactly lacking in stamina, and he was damned if he couldn’t show his lover a good time for a measly hour.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is much teasing, and THERE IS A FAIRLY HEFTY SPOILER FOR ZERO HOUR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains nudity and some mentions of sex having taken place, but I don't think it warrants an increase in rating. Let me know if you disagree.
> 
> (Also, it got away from me a bit. I feel sure people won't mind too much)

“What’s the other thing you came here for?”

Obi-Wan’s question startled him back to reality. His lover was pressed up against his side, one leg hooked possessively over his, and he was propped up on his elbow, tracing lazy patterns on Rex’s chest with the other hand.

“Huh?”

Obi-Wan grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“There you are. You said you only ‘mostly’ came here for the sex: what’s the other thing?”

When Rex had said it, he had meant that he just wanted to spend some time with Obi-Wan. Now, though? He had just been given the perfect opening.

“Will you say the riduurak with me?”

It wasn’t, perhaps, the most romantic of proposals, but it wasn’t ill-considered either. Rex had, in fact, been thinking about it for some time and, with everything that had happened recently, it seemed like the thing to do. Too many things had gone wrong. Thrawn had found them on Atollon. Someone had found Obi-Wan here on this hellhole, and Rex didn’t want one of them to die without him having made his feelings clear.

The swirly patterns stopped suddenly, and Obi-Wan blinked.

“I… didn’t even think you knew it,” he said softly.

“Jesse looked it up.” Rex sighed as he remembered. “He and Kix got married after Umbara.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes slid away for a moment, and Rex slapped his hand. “Hey. Still not your fault.”

He reached up and cupped Obi-Wan’s face in his palm. “You did your best for us, always. No-one ever blamed you for what happened, on Umbara or anywhere else. Except, you know, Hardeen.”

Obi-Wan groaned and dropped his head onto Rex’s chest. “You are never going to let me live that down, are you?” he mumbled into warm skin.

“Nope. So, was that a yes?”

Obi-Wan pressed a gentle kiss to Rex’s chest before answering: “Yes. But, are you planning on raising warriors? Because that’s probably something we should talk about.”

Rex stroked his hair gently. “I figure we’ve already got that part covered. Ahsoka. Plus, Ezra, Luke… You know, for a non-Jedi, I seem to be accumulating a lot of Jedi kids.”

“Luke? You know how Owen feels about that.”

“Yeah. But I figured Luke would probably come to you on his own some day. He’s enough like Anakin that he’ll get himself into trouble and do something ridiculous.”

“Oh, how I wish I didn’t believe that were true. Especially after Maul.”

Rex tilted Obi-Wan’s chin so that they were looking each other in the eye. “Maul was rogue. He wasn’t with the Sith any more than he was with the Jedi. And, the way Ezra tells it, he’s dead.”

“Oh, he is that,” Obi-Wan assured him. “I had to drop the body into the Sarlaac pit so that the evidence was disposed of.”

“That was also not your fault,” Rex said. “Maul brought that upon himself. Can we get back to the us getting married?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes creased at the corners. “You are awfully insistent about that. Why don’t we get some dinner first? I’m peckish.”

Rex eyed him carefully. “ _You’re_ peckish? When was the last time you actually ate?”

“This morning,” Obi-Wan said, sounding wounded. “You know, I’m not actually terrible about eating when I have the time to do it. Which I do right now.”

Rex shook his head. “Fine, fine. Do you want to use the evil fresher first?”

Obi-Wan chuckled as he rolled over and up onto his feet in one smooth move. “You know, sometimes it is very obvious that you grew up on a water planet. Sonics are not ‘evil’.”

Rex stretched out. “Maybe not,” he said. “But you can’t say they’re relaxing. And you can’t fit two people into a sonic stall.”

Obi-Wan laughed as he passed through the door into the small fresher. “Neither of us is athletic enough to negotiate shower sex any more.”

“You said we were too old to have sex for an hour too,” Rex called back cheerfully. He rolled over and grabbed Obi-Wan’s chrono, and sniggered. “It’s been an hour and a half.”

“You spent some time asleep, old man,” Obi-Wan shouted back.

“Not that long,” Rex said, getting up himself and stretching the kinks out of his back. “And you’re still older than me.”

“Only in actual chronological years,” Obi-Wan shot back. “You’re now physically older than me. You certainly creak more.”

“I do not fucking _creak_ , Kenobi! Cheeky bastard.”

The laughter that floated out from the fresher was joyous and infectious. He was still chortling when Obi-Wan emerged from the fresher to find Rex stripping the soiled sheets from the bed.

“Creaky or not, that is still an excellent view, captain.”

Rex wiggled his ass a little, which made Obi-Wan laugh even more.

“Go, get clean. I’ll finish off in here, and we can put the sheets in to clean while we are eating. Otherwise, Izen is going to wonder what happened to us.”

Rex snorted. “Yeah, right. Knowing him, he and Ahn’ya will have bets on just how late we’ll be.”

He abandoned his task and slapped Obi-Wan’s butt on the way past him to the fresher. He snagged his wash kit and spent a few minutes getting the last of the sand out of his beard before he stepped under the sonics. Obi-Wan always said he was imagining the fact that the sound waves set his teeth on edge, but a lot of his brothers had said the same thing. He spent the least possible time getting clean, before heading back out. Obi-Wan had finished stripping the bed and was in the midst of gathering the sheets and their clothing for cleaning.

Rex relaxed into the corner and watched him work. Even though he lived and worked with Jedi, neither of them had Obi-Wan’s skill with the Force, and neither of them used it for a task this frivolous. Obi-Wan wouldn’t have, once upon a time, but things had changed, and Rex knew that Obi-Wan enjoyed feeling the way the Force moved when he worked.

Obi-Wan caught him looking, and flushed.

Rex chuckled. “Only you could be embarrassed to be caught using the Force, rather than because you’re still naked.”

“So are you,” Obi-Wan pointed out as he directed the ball of laundry towards the fresher. “Besides, the only thing I have to be embarrassed about on that front is that I’ve spent seventeen years in a desert and I’m still paler than you.”

Rex crossed the room and swept his jetii into his arms. “Don’t wish that away. I love the way my hands look on your skin. And besides, if all your skin was darker? I couldn’t spend hours teasing you by tracing the freckles on your shoulders.”

Obi-Wan gave a little shiver in his arms, which may or may not have had something to do with the fact that Rex was tracing lines between some of said freckles. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to deprive you of that.”

Rex dipped his head and pressed a kiss to Obi-Wan’s shoulder, then to the space just behind his jaw, under his ear. It made him shiver more, which Rex loved. He nipped playfully at Obi-Wan’s ear and then dropped his hands entirely.

“Later,” he said, enjoying the look of frustration on Obi-Wan’s face. “Food now.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which words are spoken.

Ahn’ya smiled at them when they finally appeared in the bar, and twitched the ‘all clear’ sign before the ends of her orange lekku coiled smugly. Over at the bar, Izen rolled his eyes.

“Guess who’s doing the clean-up tonight,” Rex murmured to Obi-Wan as Ahn’ya escorted them to a table tucked in the back of the place – perfect for people who want to hide themselves away.

Not that hiding mattered – the place was deserted. The storm had forced everyone home early, and Izen was already sweeping up the sand that people had tracked in throughout the course of the day, leaving it in a pile in the corner nearest to the door.

“It’s looking bad out there,” he said conversationally as they waited for Ahn’ya to bring up their food. “The forecast says it might be a couple days before the intensity drops.”

Rex looked across the table to his cyare, his ven’riduur, and couldn’t keep the smile from his face. He reached across the table and took Obi-Wan’s hand.

“I can think of worse places to be stuck.”

“Well, I could have stayed at home, waiting for you,” Obi-Wan suggested lightly. There was an odd look in his eye as he glanced from Rex to Izen, to Ahn’ya as she appeared, and then to their joined hands before coming back to Rex. He understood the meaning: while it wasn’t necessary for a Mando ceremony, most cultures did actually require witnesses to a marriage. He nodded.

“Izen, Ahn’ya, since the storm seems to have altered your plans somewhat, would you join us for your meal?”

Izen considered for all of a second before engaging the locks on the door. “That’d be nice, Ben. Thanks.”

Ahn’ya’s lekku curled at the tips as she placed bowls of stew in front of the two of them. “Dinner with my three favourite men?” she said, her throaty Ryloth accent as rich and warm as the food. “That sounds perfect. I will go and get some more for us.”

She turned back towards the kitchen and took a few steps before looking back over her shoulder. “Don’t go anywhere, boys. I want to hear all about your adventures.”

Izen shook his head fondly. “She means she wants to hear all about the fact that the Empire suddenly pulled out of Lothal without warning, then came back limping.”

Obi-Wan glanced over at Rex, who shrugged. Izen caught it as he slid into the booth beside Rex.

“We hear things. The Empire is keeping it pretty quiet though. I’m guessing whatever it was didn’t go well for them.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Rex said, pushing bantha stew around the bowl. Because no, it hadn’t gone the way Thrawn had planned, but it hadn’t exactly gone well for the new Alliance either.

“Oh, it’s like that?” Izen asked. He bumped his leg against Rex’s. “You guys survived though, Roi. They’d be shouting it from the rafters if they’d managed to ‘neutralise’ the rebellion.”

“Yeah. Mostly. It put some things into perspective for me; brought things into focus.”

“What things?” Ahn’ya put a bowl in front of her husband, and took a seat next to Obi-Wan.

“Like… Like that I keep not telling Ben how much he means to me. That I keep listening to that voice from the Republic that says I’m not a real person, instead of asking him something I should have done years ago.”

Izen’s good lek brushed Rex’s arm. “You know we all know that’s bantha crap, right, Roi? Anyone who fought with you and your brothers knows that. Anyone who _talked_ to any of you for more than a minute…”

“Yeah, well people like that are few and far between these days,” Rex said with a sigh.

“Wait, wait, can we get back to that ‘asking him something’ thing?” Ahn’ya said, sounding suspiciously girlish.

“Re… Roi asked me to marry him,” Obi-Wan said matter-of-factly, nearly slipping with the name and covering badly. “Mando custom merely requires us to say the vows, but if the two of you have nothing better to do tonight, it would be nice to have someone witness it.”

Ahn’ya squealed with delight and threw her arms around Obi-Wan. “A wedding? Here?”

“If you don’t mind,” Obi-Wan said, patting her arm somewhat awkwardly.

“Ben, I don’t think Ahn’ya minds,” Rex said, chuckling.

“It’s about damn time if you ask me,” Izen said. “But, if you two are getting married, can we stop pretending we don’t know exactly who the two of you are? I know names are important to you clones, Rex, and it seems wrong for you to get married using one that isn’t yours.”

“Actually, ‘Roi’ and ‘Rex’ mean the same thing,” Rex said. “And Ben’s been using Ben since before I was even created.”

Obi-Wan sighed dramatically. “And now I feel incredibly old.”

“You _are_ incredibly old,” Rex replied, grinning. “The age difference is scandalous.”

“How scandalous?” Ahn’ya asked.

“Twenty-five years,” Rex told her cheerfully.

“Pff, that is nothing,” she decreed with a lazy wave of her lek. “Twi’lek girls are married to men much older than that every day. Some of them even choose it.”

There was a moment of silence as no-one seemed to know how to respond to that. Slavery was a way of life on Tatooine, and across much of the galaxy now, but joking about it?

Ahn’ya flicked her lekku at them all in amused irritation. “I just meant that age should not be a problem. Anyone can see that you two love each other, and that it all that matters.”

Obi-Wan sighed. “Of course it is.”

“Do not question my wife, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Izen said sternly. “She is always right. Even when she is wrong.”

Rex choked on his food. He had heard Cut say the same thing about Suu over the years.

“Is that just Twi’lek women, or women in general?” he asked while Ahn’ya pouted unconvincingly.

“All women,” Obi-Wan answered quickly. “Believe me, human women are just the same.”

Rex found Ahn’ya’s foot under the table and nudged it with his own. “Sounds like I should count myself lucky that I only ever got led astray by a guy.”

Ahn’ya snorted. “Sure. Because men aren’t annoying at all.”

He shrugged. “At least I _understand_ men. A million brothers and no sisters will do that to you.”

Izen snickered. “Women are unfathomable to every man,” he assured Rex. “Having sisters doesn’t help: I have three back on Ryloth. But, complicated as she is, I would not trade Ahn’ya for anything.”

Rex looked over at Obi-Wan – his ridiculous jetii, who only remembered to eat half the time, and took care of everyone except himself. The man who was assigned vod’e to sit on him when he was injured, so that he would actually rest and not drive the medics completely insane. The man who stood at the front of his battalion, lightsabre aloft, because it was the right thing to do. The man who fought for the rights of his men to be recognised (the fact that he had not succeeded didn’t negate the fact that he had _tried_ , and that was what was important). The man who curled into Rex in the dead of night, in the privacy of his quarters, and wept for every man he lost, for the horrors he had seen throughout his hard life. The man whose litany was too long to say in one day, and he said it anyway because everyone deserved to be remembered; he would say different names each night so that everyone was included (but there were five who were always spoken).

The man whose sheer presence made Rex feel like his survival had meant something; that they were supposed to be here, together. The man who made his heart soar.

“I know exactly what you mean.”

Obi-Wan looked up from his almost-empty bowl and flushed under Rex’s gaze. He dropped his fork and reached for Rex’s hand, keeping eye contract.

“Mhi solus tome.”

Rex picked up after the first word and they spoke together. Although they had planned to do this this evening, Rex hadn’t quite expected it to be spontaneous, nor over the dinner table. Even he had a better sense of the romantic than that! That said, it did fit them

“Mhi solus dar’tome.”

Obi-Wan was smiling brightly, his eyes shining with joy. Rex could see a hint of the young man Obi-Wan had been as a padawan; the mischievous child he had never had the fortune to meet.

“Mhi me’dinui an.”

He was nervous. He was _actually_ nervous. As if becoming Obi-Wan’s husband would change something between them. How ridiculous.

“Mhi ruba’juri verde.”

Rex started. He had thrown the variation in because it seemed to suit them better, especially after the discussion earlier. He hadn’t expected Obi-Wan to do it too. Obi-Wan looked surprised too. His husband looked surprised. They were married. Obi-Wan was his husband. He was Obi-Wan’s husband.

He nudged Obi-Wan’s foot and grinned stupidly. Obi-Wan laughed at him, and rightfully so.

“That’s so pretty,” Ahn’ya said. She was smiling, but it wasn’t just in happiness; her lekku were curled in amusement at the pair of them. “What do the words mean?”

Obi-Wan nudged him. “Your culture.”

Rex snorted. “Yeah, because you didn’t know it before I even asked you.

“It’s pretty simple: ‘We are one together. We are one when not together.”

“The generally accepted translation of ‘dar’tome’ is ‘parted’,” Obi-Wan butted in.

Rex raised his eyebrows and Obi-Wan raised his hands, conceding that he had nominated Rex for this in the first place. And translations were always a bit iffy anyway – there was always a bit of interpretation.

“Okay, we are one when _parted_. We share all. Then.. we varied it slightly. The last line is supposed to be  ‘Mhi ba’juri verde’, which means ‘We will raise soldiers’, but we made it past tense. We’ve already done that. Some of it we even did together.”

“Short and sweet,” Izen declared, sounding approving. “So, is there anything else you want to do this evening?”

Rex found that he didn’t really know, other than an idea of getting his husband (his _husband!_ ) back downstairs and defiling the newly-cleaned sheets. Hopefully involving connect-the-freckles.

“I understand that Twi’lek weddings involve dancing,” Obi-Wan suggested. “I’d like to do that.”

Their hosts both nodded approvingly. “We can arrange that. It won’t be live music; not tonight.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Obi-Wan said. “But, can we have a waltz first?”

That took Izen by surprise, although Ahn’ya all-but squealed.

“Come see what we’ve got,” Izen said, getting up and gesturing for Obi-Wan to follow him. Ahn’ya stepped out to let Obi-Wan up, then sat back down opposite Rex. As they went over to the music pad and Obi-Wan began to flick through the available files, Ahn’ya leaned over conspiratorially.

“I saw the vids of you at that Senate Ball,” she informed him, explaining her behaviour. “I never thought I’d get to see it in person.”

Eighteen years ago, Rex would have been embarrassed by that. Now it was amusing (but still a bit embarrassing too).

“Those damn vids. My brothers found them within _minutes_. I didn’t hear the end of it until, well…”

Thinking about that was not on the cards for tonight. There were more cheerful things.

“I think Jesse was running a book, but he wouldn’t tell me exactly what on.”

Ahn’ya rested her chin in her hands, elbows on the table. “Were you already together then, or was that _the_ night?”

Rex snorted, amused. “No, and no.” He let her mull that one over for a second, lekku going limp with surprise. “We had a very serious talk about the fact we both had feelings for each other, but it would be inappropriate, we would be rushing, et cetera et cetera.

“Next morning, I got a summons to the Temple. Obi-Wan had booked us a training room so we could dance properly. That lasted all of about a minute before he dragged me off to his quarters and had his wicked way.”

Ahn’ya sighed happily. “That’s even better! That’s _romantic_.”

“I do try,” Obi-Wan said smoothly, reappearing at the table. He held his hand out to Rex, as he had all those years ago.

“Would you do me the honour of dancing with me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got away from me (again). That's after Word crashing and eating the entire vow part. I had to re-create it, and it's never as good the second time.
> 
> There is something I wanted to work in here that I didn't get around to. I thought that ending this chapter there worked nicely. Therefore, there will be one further, hopefully short-ish epilogue-type thing.
> 
> For anyone who has no idea about the dancing and the vids (Ahn'ya is such a fangirl!), it's from [Dancing in the Stars](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8191975) \- an attempt at crack-fic that went the way of most of my crack-fics and developed a plot of sorts.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which exchanges are made.

“I’ve missed dancing with you.”

Rex was in total agreement with that statement: even in the moments together they had managed to steal over the years, they hadn’t been able to dance together since the end of the war. Crazy Ben Kenobi’s hut was not big enough to dance inside of, and the sands just weren’t stable enough to dance outside.

“Maybe we should schedule a sandstorm for every time I visit,” he joked.

Obi-Wan looked thoughtful. “You know, I’m fairly certain I could manage that if I put my mind to it.”

Rex blinked, and spent far too long trying to work out whether or not he was joking.

“Really?”

Obi-Wan shrugged and grinned. “Probably. I can’t say I’ve tried before. Qui-Gon certainly could. I wonder if our hosts would notice if that suddenly started to happen?”

That was easy to answer.

“Even if they do, I think Ahn’ya will pay you to do it.”

Obi-Wan laughed as he pushed the door to their bedroom open. “You’re probably right. It hadn’t occurred to me that she would have been a teenager during the war.”

Rex elbowed him. “At least she’s a bit more restrained than the fans you met back then. Now, General, I’ve got you all alone. Whatever should I do with you?”

Obi-Wan surprised him by sitting on the edge of the bed and patting the space beside him. Rex perched there warily. This wasn’t at all what he was expecting for their wedding night.

Obi-Wan reached into his robe and pulled out a small box.

“This isn’t a Mando tradition, nor a Tatooine one, but it’s fairly prevalent among human cultures.” He opened the box to reveal two heavy-looking metal rings. “Spouses wear them on the fourth finger of their left hand to symbolise their marriage.  I wondered if you would want to?”

Rex looked from the rings to him and back again. They were clearly custom-made, since he couldn’t believe that any jeweler, anywhere, would stock silver-coloured rings with blue and gold bands through the centre.

“You… you planned this.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “I was going to ask you anyway. You just beat me to it. So, would you want to wear it?”

Rex nodded and Obi-Wan lifted the larger of the two rings from the box. Carefully, he slid it onto Rex’s hand.

It was an odd weight on his hand, but it was in no way uncomfortable. He took the second ring from the box and repeated Obi-Wan’s actions, settling the ring on Obi-Wan’s hand.

It was one thing to be able to know they were married, but a symbol? Something tangible that would display their union to the galaxy at large was something he hadn’t even thought about. It would be too dangerous to wear it on a mission or anything like that, but in private, with his friends? His family?

Well, it wasn’t like they didn’t already know that Obi-Wan was alive.

“There’s something else,” Rex said, looking up at his husband. His stomach knotted itself as he considered this request - one that was even more nerve-wracking than proposing in the first place. “There are other traditions about marriages. To do with names.”

“Rex…?” Obi-Wan prompted him.

“I know on Alderaan and Naboo, and a lot of other planets, spouses share family names. Since I don’t have one, I was wondering if you’d mind me taking yours?”

He smiled, the corners of his eyes creasing. “Rex, why would I mind? I would be honoured. And now, Captain Kenobi, I’m fairly sure you had some ideas of how to spend this evening...”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which secrets are shared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have one tiny little epilogue, courtesy of a prompt from [Yolande](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Yolande/pseuds/Yolande).

“Captain Kenobi, I hear congratulations are in order.”

Many pairs of eyes swivelled to him. Kanan didn’t bother turning, but Rex was aware that his attention had shifted somewhat.

Obi-Wan would be upset if he killed Bail Organa. A lot of people would be upset (including everyone in this room), and he’d probably be executed by his own side for treason, but Obi-Wan was the mitigating factor here. He had lost too many friends already.

“Dammit!” Ezra declared, throwing his hands up in the air.

Hera chuckled and held her hand out. With a sigh, Ezra put his hand into his pocket, then dropped a pile of creds into her palm while she smiled beatifically.

“You really should know better by now, Ezra,” Kanan said, shaking his head.

“Momma knows best,” Hera said smugly, before turning to Rex. “Now, tell me _everything_.”

.oOo.

As it turned out, Momma didn’t always know best – she ended up owing money to Sabine over the riduurak, and Ezra gleefully announced that he would tell her. But there was a lot of exchanging of creds going on as Rex imparted the story of his wedding day. Hera positively cooed over his ring, recognising the significance of the coloured bands. Even Kanan smiled when she described it to him (and then ended up having to explain it to Ezra). Kanan laughed about the dancing, and Bail reminisced that it had been a good evening, despite everything: the last Senate Ball he had enjoyed attending.

They had adjourned to Bail’s suite by this point, and drink was flowing. It led to an impromptu demonstration for Ezra and Hera. The senator was as good as Rex remembered, and he was considerate enough to compensate for Rex’s ageing knees.

It was nice, he mused, to be able to share this with his family. To have a little bit of normality, of happiness.

They were going to win, Rex realised in that moment, when he was surrounded by smiling faces. Because the Empire had been trying for seventeen years, and was yet to crush their spirit. The Empire might have an army, but the Alliance was aliit, and that would make all the difference in the galaxy.


End file.
